Fixed
by hpmadness
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy's quidditch career and love life might quite be over after a wily reporter wields her pen...


A random one-shot that didn't leave me till I put it down! I am working on my other stories, 'The Trial' and 'Past revisited Mistakes Revised' and will update them soon hopefully! So sorry for the wait...

Disclaimer: The characters are all JKR's, what you don't recognize is from the depths of my imagination!

ENJOY! And please do leave a review? :)

* * *

A wild scramble mid-air, a final flutter of delicate wings, three sharp blasts of Referee Glaspyne's whistle and it was all over.

The commentator was loudly exclaiming the score to the jubilant crowd; well most of them were anyway.

Some of them, the fans of the Falmouth Falcons were not happy, not happy at all.

And all the unhappy people had just one name on their bitter lips, the very reason they had lost tonight, the reason they were now squandering at the bottom of the league table, the so called _captain_ of their team; Scorpius Malfoy.

The sentiments of the crowd were not favouring the team right now, and the man in question was perhaps the most upset of them all.

He flew down slowly from his post by the hoops, eyes glued to the large score board which was now flashing in big orange letters '340-80 Chudley Canons WIN!'

He swallowed his disappointment at the horrible loss and tried to contain his frustration as he neared his already gathered team mates.

He knew he had to give them a pep talk, something to boost their morale, but this time he couldn't bring himself to do so, needing words of encouragement himself.

He knew what would come now, the criticism, the slander, and the demand for him to step down as captain, to give up quidditch for good.

He landed, more like skidded to a stop in front of them and they all turned to him expectantly, disappointment evident on their faces as well.

He couldn't bring himself to say anything though.

He just pulled off his goggles, running his hand through his soaked hair, pushing it off his face.

From the gasp that came from his team mates he obviously had a gash or two across his face from the bludgers that had come his way.

He ignored it, not feeling the sting anyway due to the adrenaline still rushing through his system.

He passed by his team, patting Lyra his seeker on the had done a brilliant job but no one stood a chance against Albus Potter this season it seemed.

Speaking of Albus Potter, the guy was already on the podium, waiting with the commentators and the Team Owners. Waiting for him. He quickened his steps knowing he couldn't put off the presentation ceremony.

The questions the presenter asked sounded foreign to his years. He answered them, backing his team, congratulating the opposition, all a well rehearsed saga.

All he wanted to do was get out of there, have a nice long shower and retire to his room.

In his room, in the dark he would find his peace.

Like he had the previous 8 matches. It really had been a terrible losing streak, and it hurt knowing he was responsible for it.

"That looks like a nasty cut; you should take care of it. And best of luck for the next season." were the parting words. He nodded his thanks, and moved away, clearing centre stage for the man everyone was cheering for; Albus Potter.

He shook hands with him, a familiar expression on his face. He ignored it, not in the mood for pity at the moment.

He knew his dad was in the crowd, so was his girl friend.

He had let them all down.

A thousand justifications ran through his head, he could come up with just as many excuses as well. But he was a man of honor; he had a sense of responsibility. He wouldn't hide behind reasons; he would own up and take whatever they sent his way head on, without shirking his duty.

He made his way back to the changing rooms to collect his gear.

No one acknowledged him, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Get someone to check out that injury mate!" Louis called out as he passed by.

A nod in his direction was the only sign he showed that he heard him.

He sat down in the far corner; now that he had calmed down relatively he could feel the intense burning across the left side of his cheek. But he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Hey Scor..." Lyra interrupted him. He looked up to see she had already showered and changed.

"Good game Lyra..." He told her.

"Exactly Scor. It was just a game." she said softly, sitting down next to him.

He didn't respond.

He didn't have the energy to tell her off.

"You can't shut yourself off, you can't sit here and mope around." she said, her voice soft.

He didn't look up at her.

She ran her hand down his arm slowly. "Forget about the game Scor…" her hand was on his face, tracing the outside of his cut. "Come with me, let's get out of here. I'll make you forget." she said suggestively, her face inching closer to his. He was now utterly confused.

He and Lyra had always been friends, team mates, nothing more.

Sure she was gorgeous, and really fit, but he had a girl friend for heaven's sake! One whom he loved very much!

"What are you doing Lyra? I have a girlfriend remember." he said angrily, not in the right frame of mind to deal with this.

"So?" she said brazenly moving herself closer so that she was practically on him.

He shifted uncomfortably as he tried again to talk her out of it, let her down gently.

"What the hell is happening here?!" Albus Potter asked looking thoroughly pissed off.

"You have a girlfriend Malfoy or did you forget about her?"

"Al, mate..." he said finally pushing Lyra off himself, and rather unceremoniously at that.

Albus shook his head in disbelief at his best friend. "You know it's not like that."

"Whatever you say Scorpo..."

"Alby shut up."

"Shall I wait outside for you to finish up whatever this is?"

"C'mon mate... You know I love her."

"I do, she doesn't" he said grinning.

Ok Scor... Just yanking your chain. Clean up fast, I'll wait out." he said, leaving the changing room.

"What was that Lyra?"

"Well you just looked lonely... I thought you could use some company."

"Quit the act ok... Go home. Cool off... I'll see you tomorrow for practice." he said the last part aloud for the entire team to hear.

"Practice what, captain? The season is over, at least for us." Lyra said standing up.

And then it hit him.

It really was all over.

"Malfoy... A word?" their coach said.

He went over, still feeling as though he had been hit by a he had, literally and figuratively.

"Yes coach?"

"We'll have to discuss..."

"My contract? Yeah I figured."

"Take the weekend off... Be in my office on Monday morning, 9 sharp." he said slapping him on the back.

He nodded numbly and walked out of the changing room, for what might be the last time.

When had things turned so bad?

"Hey... You ok?" Al asked.

"You shouldn't have waited. Go celebrate your victory... You deserve it." he said, his voice hollow.

"Don't be like that Malfoy... I wanted to be there for my bud when he drowns himself in firewhiskey." Al joked putting an arm around his shoulder.

"Well that sounds pretty damn good right about now." he said wanting to forget the pain, if just for a night.

* * *

"It can't be that bad..."

"Oh it gets worse... The coach wants to talk to me... About my contract. I'm going to get kicked off the team." he exclaimed loudly and began laughing hysterically.

"Hear that Al, my professional quidditch career is over!" he cried downing his 8th glass of firewhiskey and signaling for one more.

"I'm sorry but I have to cut you off." Al said firmly.

"Screw you Al." he said, pulling the drink from his hand and gulping it down.

"Come on buddy, let's go home…" Al tried again.

"No Al, I'm a coward. I can't even tell her that I love her." He slurred, switching and muddling topics randomly.

"Ok Scorpius, we can go home and you can tell her come." Al said holding out his hand for him.

"No, I'll tell her right now!" he said.

And then he stood up and made his way to the table adjoining theirs, albeit a little wobbly, before throwing his hand around a random girl sitting there and kissing her sloppily on the face saying 'I love you... Don't leave me' over and over again.

Al acted fast, but not fast enough, some other bystander had already photographed the entire thing.

"Scorpius... Come on mate! Work with me here! That is not the girl you love..." Al tried reasoning with him while tugging him off the girl who didn't seem to be complaining.

"Help me out here!" he cried to the table of her friends who were watching in great interest and amusement and with their help he was able to pry him away.

"Scorpius Malfoy just kissed me!" the girl was swooning, and Albus had had enough.

He threw a few galleons to cover the bill on their table and apparated them both away to his flat before he could do any more damage.

Now all he had to do was destroy the picture before it reached the Prophet.

Scorpius passed out before long which made Al's work a lot easier.

But by the time he reached the bar the guy with the photo had long since disappeared.

* * *

"**Fixed**!" read the headlines on the next day's paper.

Al opened it, dreading what the article said, seeing Scorpius' face right under the headline.

_Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy has found himself in the middle of yet another scandal; this time not between the sheets but on the quidditch field. The professional quidditch star who rose to popularity on his 'Firebolt 50' playing keeper for the Falmouth Falcons finds himself facing allegations of foul play and match fixing after he lead the team to their 9th consecutive loss of the season, effectively putting them out of contention for the cup. Enraged fans were happy to point fingers at their captain; Malfoy for the losses even as the betting circles spun with rumors of him having accepted a large sum of gold to lose the match on purpose. _

_Seasoned gambler Ludo Bagman didn't have much to say but the few words he did give away quite a bit. "The young Mr. Malfoy has quite some talent, pity he would be willing to throw it all away for some galleons." he said smirking to himself as he pocketed a bag of what seemed full of coins. The fans are angry, all calling for the sacking of Malfoy as captain after Friday's debacle against the Chudley Canons but that remains to be seen, the decision in the hands of the team owners. Meanwhile Scorpius Malfoy himself remained unavailable for comment, sources having spotted him in the favourite hotspot for quidditch heroes 'The Silver Snitches'. _

_"He was extremely drunk, had about 10 glasses of firewhiskey in one go with Mr. Potter who tried to stop him. He then launched himself on an innocent woman sitting at the neighboring table and told her he loved her before kissing her. It was all very awkward." a spectator said, also providing us with interesting photos (page 4)._

_ Albus Potter, his best friend and classmate from Hogwarts too was unreachable for comments._

_**'We have full faith in our captain - Dave Winger**' page 3_  
_**'Malfoy should be sacked'** page 3_  
_**'Canons win resoundingly, top of the league'** page 4_

Albus turned to page 4 hesitantly.

The first picture to grab his attention was of his own face, grinning as he received yet another player of the match award at yesterday's game.

He scanned the article briefly which described the game, trashing Scorpius quite harshly while praising the Canons.

He then saw what he had been looking for, the dreaded pictures.

He was still going through it when he heard Scorpius enter the room.

"Pour yourself some coffee, hangover potion is in the cabinet." he said without looking up.

"Thanks. Anything interesting in there?" be asked as he settled down with his mug.

Al snorted at his sarcastic tone and tossed him the paper.

At seeing the headlines his eyes widened.

At seeing who had written the article however they nearly popped out of his head. 'Rose Weasley'.

He was going to kill her!

"Calm down mate."Al said noticing how his hands clenched into fists.

"What the hell?!" Scorpius cried, extremely pissed off.

That girl really had it in for him.

"Do you remember anything at all from last night?"

"No! Did I do something?" he asked horrified.

"Read it." Al urged feeling extremely sorry for him at the moment.

He did, and within moment he was flipping to page 4 to check the truth for himself.

He groaned, his hands covering his face.

"I can't believe I did that!" he cursed, hitting his head on the table in front of him.

"Whoa take it easy Scor... You're still injured. You should get that checked before it gets infected." Al said.

So he checked his reflection for the first time since the match on the back of a spoon.

It was disgusting, and Al said almost infected.

The gash was about 4 cm long, across his cheek bone ending dangerously close to his eye.

It was bruising all around it from the impact of the bludger and it was a miracle he could even move his jaw. He winced as he prodded it and realized he did have to go to Mungos soon.

"I have murtlap essence if you want." Al said, but he waved him away.

This article was of more importance. His reputation was at stake. As was his career, his girlfriend, his entire life.

He let out another frustrated groan and Al sympathized. "I'll talk to Rose" Al offered generously to which he only groaned again.

"You have a few owls waiting; I think one of them is from your dad… I have work to do mate, a few formalities to complete. Will you be ok on your own?" Al asked.

"Yeah go ahead." He told him as he let the owls in and collected the letters.

With a pop Al was gone and he was all alone in their apartment.

He tossed the ones from magazines and papers, requesting interviews, aside keeping the important ones. There was one from his dad and of course, one from _her_.

He couldn't even imagine facing her; that was if she would even agree to see his face again.

He cursed himself for his stupidity.

One drunken night and he had thrown it all away.

He opened her letter anyway.

He had been expecting a howler, but this was way worse. '_If you didn't gather already, it's over_.'

He didn't know that one sentence had the power to take everything away from him.

Last night's defeat paled in comparison to what he was feeling now.

He opened his dad's letter knowing what it would say anyway.

A quick scan told him he was right.

He was disappointed by his behaviour, one loss didn't give him the right to turn alcoholic, and he sincerely hoped the allegations of match-fixing were false… Thanks for the faith and support, dad, he thought as he threw it in the pile with the other letters.

He picked up her letter again, tracing her loopy handwriting over and over again, hoping she was here, with him.

Then he stood up, burnt all the letters and retired to his room with a bottle of firewhiskey from Al's stash.

He sat himself in a dark corner, reveling in the burn of the whiskey down his throat.

* * *

"This was not the article I asked you to cover Weasley, nor is it the one I approved." Her boss, Jessica Fulton yelled, barging into her cubicle.

"Well it covers the general idea, and is much more hard-hitting." Rose replied sullenly.

"I don't want twisted facts nor do I need personal vendettas being carried out in print the Malfoys sue it's on your head. I need an apology going out in tomorrow's paper." She ordered.

And Rose had no choice but to comply.

"Hey Rosie…"

"I'm not in the mood Al." she said.

"Here" he said tossing her a chocolate frog. She caught it and tore off the wrapping.

"Don't you think that was a bit harsh on the guy?" he asked gently.

"Don't start off too… Fulton already has me printing an apology." She huffed, swallowing it in one go.

"Look he was drunk. Earlier I walked in on Lyra Peterson trying to seduce him in the changing rooms. He resisted her, pushed her off literally claiming he had a girlfriend. He's a good guy. He doesn't deserve the spite; he's going to be kicked off the team anyway." Al sighed.

"He's getting kicked off the team?" she asked, that was news to her.

"He lost his job and his girlfriend because of your one article, cut him some slack." Al said.

"You should hear his side of the story… at least think about it." Al said standing up.

He ruffled her hair on the way out, leaving her with a lot to think about.

After a few hours of pondering, and rotting inside with guilt, Rose finally sent out a letter, hoping it would clear up a few details.

She stood up with a purpose; if not rectify everything she could at least help sort of the mess she had created.

* * *

After having downed almost the entire bottle, Scorpius wasn't sure whether he was awake or dreaming any more.

"Scorpius?" was someone calling him?

"Wake up Scorpius…" someone was definitely shaking him now.

He opened one eye to see a hazy face in front of him.

He felt his heart catch.

It surely couldn't be her?Was he hallucinating?

He opened both eyes, rubbing them to try to get the room more into focus.

He tried to sit up but the whole room swam, a sharp pain shooting through his skull.

He blinked his eyes open again and a bright light hit them, making him cringe and retreat again.

What was happening? Where was he?

A whispered 'nox' he heard and again a small soft hand was shaking him.

He sat up again to diffused lighting, and now he could see her face clearly.

Unless he was dreaming, she was actually sitting in front of him, concern written all over her face.

"Are you really here?" he rasped out, his voice rough, his throat raw from all that drinking.

"Yeah…" she shrugged.

Before he could move to touch her and feel if she really was there or a figment of his imagination, she extended a trembling hand to his face.

"You're hurt." She said softly, her face contorted in horror.

"It doesn't hurt… a minor cut." He said nonchalantly though he winced when he tried to smile.

The bruise was being a bitch.

She touched the skin and he let out a hiss.

She was actually here.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, remembering the note she had sent.

"Well, I had an interesting visitor today, who made me change my mind…" she said.

"Let me heal that for you? Please?" she said softly.

Scorpius still couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not. At least she felt real, and he seriously hoped she was.

"Go ahead..." he said.

She pulled out her want and murmured something under her breath, instantly vanishing the sting and itch.

It still hurt like hell though.

"You have to go to Mungos for that jaw." she said softly.

"Thanks" he mumbled, running a hand over his now smooth skin.

She really was amazing wasn't she? How could he have screwed up so badly?! He didn't deserve this wonderful woman in front of him.

"Why are you here?" he asked again.

She didn't reply, instead continued her inspection of him...

"You didn't shower after the match did you?" she asked laughing lightly. He shook his head.

"I can tell... The room reeks of sweat and whiskey." she said.

He shrugged; his headache was back in full force, the pain in his jaw making it worse.

"I bet you haven't eaten either?" He shook his head again, whatever little appetite he had had been driven away by her letter.

"Why don't you have a nice hot shower and I'll fix you something to eat?" she said kindly.

He nodded dumbstruck.

"Go on then Scor... Do I need to do everything?" she grinned at him encouragingly.

He winced as he tried to stand and she summoned for him the hangover potion yet again.

He gulped it down, the world coming back to sharper focus, the pain in his head dulling to a mild throb.

He looked at her gratefully, trying to find the words to express his feelings.

"Shh... Shower first. We'll talk later. You have some explaining to do." she said sadly.

He went for a bath after that, how could he refute?

The hot spray did wonders for his body and mind, cleansing him thoroughly. H

e stood under the water a little longer than necessary, enjoying the sensation of all his tense muscles loosening. It was a bonus that it gave him some more time to frame his thoughts.

He stepped out of the shower to find the inviting smell of pasta wafting towards his room.

He pulled on some sweats and went to join his girlfriend, if he could still call her that? The feeling of dread was cemented to his stomach and he couldn't bring himself to eat.

"I'm sorry." he blurted as soon as he saw her.

She turned to him, stepping away from the pots she was currently washing.

"Eat." she insisted, indicating the table.

He ignored the order and walked up to her instead.

"I'm so so so sorry. I know I am in no position to be giving excuses. And the fact that I was drunk is no excuse. I shouldn't have kissed that woman. I think the only reason I did was because I thought she was you. I know it's a lame reason, and I'm not trying to talk my way out of things. It was terrible. A mistake but absolutely terrible. I completely understand if you want me to get out of your life. But-" he was rambling and he knew it.

She cut him off "Wait."

He stopped talking, stopped breathing waiting for her next words.

"You kissed her thinking it was me?" she sounded incredulous.

"As I said. I was drunk... And she looked like you..." he said sheepishly, feeling the heat creep up his neck in embarrassment.

She was so relieved she could dance and it must have shown on her face.

He looked at her curiously, wondering what could be going on in her pretty head.

"So you said all that to her thinking it was me..." she asked quietly, her face reddening with her words.

What had he said?

And then it hit him.

He had finally confessed his love hadn't he?

He had gathered the courage to declare his love after being with her for more than a year and whom did he say it to?

A random woman at a bar.

He could kick himself for being so foolish.

He looked at her now, watching his in anticipation, wondering whether he would repeat it to her.

He felt his throat go dry looking at her.

Merlin, she was beautiful.

She was still in her formals, having come straight from work he guessed. Her white shirt was slightly crumpled, her skirt creased. Tendrils of her wild red hair were escaping her bun, falling around her face.

The tell tale Weasley blush was slowly beginning to spread across her cheeks and to him she had never looked more beautiful.

"Yeah." he said walking closer to her.

"And what exactly did you say?" she asked so softly he wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't anticipated it.

This was it... He would finally tell her.

"I love you..." well that wasn't hard was it.

In fact it felt perfect.

It was great to finally say it out loud.

She was beaming at him.

"I love you Rose Weasley." he repeated.

And this time she let out a giggle.

He gathered her into his arms, lifting her up as though she was his prize, his trophy. "I love you" he said again, twirling her around.

"I love you too, Mr. Malfoy... Now please put me down", she squealed.

He complied, putting her down and drawing her in for a kiss.

"I'm sorry too..." she whispered softly drawing back from his embrace.

"I shouldn't have written that article."

"Hey, it's your job. You're an unethical journalist and I am a pathetic quidditch player. It's what makes us such a great team. Besides I'm sure you were angry when you saw that picture." he said hitting the nail on the head.

"I tried to set things right though." she said.

He was surprised at this.

"What did you do?"

"You'll find out soon enough" she said mysteriously, not giving anything else away.

But he could handle anything, as long as she believed him.

* * *

That weekend was spent in each other's arms; a pacified Albus Potter finally went to celebrate their victory after all.

The written apology in the next day's Prophet by Rose Weasley calmed down an irate Draco Malfoy as well, who sent his commiserations to his son.

His team mates were backing him completely, refusing to believe the fixing allegations, blaming their losing streak on Lovegood might have been onto something with that Losers Lurgy theory.

When he went for that meeting with his coach on Monday however he was definitely in for a surprise.

Not only had they renewed his contract for the team he was also on the list of probables for the English National squad.

His coach didn't say much, just that the board of selectors had received a strongly worded letter from a certain someone that players could have bad streaks, needn't mean that they were poor players.

So at the end of the day Scorpius Malfoy was a lucky man wasn't he... his career was intact and he had the girl of his dreams with him, every step of the way.

* * *

Please review :)


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